


The Glyph Bunker

by Sapphokatie



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M, IronWeiss, Vanilla, War shelter, age gap, war bunker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24880477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphokatie/pseuds/Sapphokatie
Summary: Weiss is in her room when ahe recieves a knock at the door. To her surprise, Ironwood says that he has important information to share with her. First, she has to make sure that no one can intrude... and then...
Relationships: James Ironwood/Weiss Schnee
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	The Glyph Bunker

_Knock knock._

Weiss looked up at the door. She hadn’t realized how long she’d been zoned out and staring at the floor. She crossed her ankles and waited. If it was her family, they would open the door anyways without a second warning- anyone except her mother or Klein, at least.

_Knock knock._

The beating on the door was thunderous, and heavy. Weiss straightened up on her bed. It didn’t seem like any of the house’s usual components. This visitor had to be someone else. Weiss hopped from her gentle perch and made her way across the room to the door. She held myternastor behind her back as she gently turned the handle.

Wiess peeked outside the door. Her scarred eye was visible and her scar aligned with the crack of the wood. Before her was General Ironwood, standing stiff with his arms tucked behind his back.

“Schnee,” he said, monotonous, “I would like to have a word with you.” His eyes flickered around, as if he weren’t entirely sure of what he was saying.

Wiess nodded slowly. She hadn’t seen much of the General before- he was often the official that her sister accompanied, and she knew he was on the ground during the Fall of Beacon, but she hadn’t had too many personal interactions before. Especially, not in a private context.

Wiess took a deep breath and peeked her head out into the hallway to check for the presence of eavesdroppers. While she was still looking out the door, she made a hand motion to invite the General into her room. She slowly closed the door, sure now that she wasn’t being watched.

General Ironwood took a few steps into the room and stopped in the center of the rug and turned around. He didn’t seem particularly comfortable, and that was only compounded when Wiess reached behind her and very clearly locked the door. 

“Is that necessary?” He asked.

“You have no idea,” she shook her head. She wasn’t quite done with her anti-eavesdropping preparations just yet. 

“One moment,” she added. She walked right past him and towards the back of the room. She knew how easy it was to listen in, she had been on either side of that many times. 

Wiess secured the large window panes, just to make sure that they were shut. No adjacent open windows were to hear them, either. “Alright,” 

Wiess returned to the rug and started to roll it up as Ironwood was still standing on it. He took a few hurried steps back and nearly ran into her dresser. He steadied himself with his hands against the furniture. Beneath her rug was a surprisingly well-hidden trap door.

Wiess used a glyph to unlock it. One that Ironwood had only seen Winter use a handful of times. It seemed like the little door was _made_ with the glyph in mind, so it must have been there for many years.

Wiess leapt into the little trap door and was swallowed by the darkness. The only indicator that she landed was the sharp _clack_ of her heels on the tile. Ironwood looked down into the door and leaned on his knee. He could barely see the floor.

Wiess waved her hand for him to come down.

Ironwood made another face of discomfort. He took another fleeting look at the door and then reluctantly climbed down into the hatch.

Beneath Wiess’ room was a private bunker. The walls were thick and lined. There was food in old, wooden crates and those provisions hid under benches that lined both sides. It had to have been built into the house during the war. Ironwood stood just beneath the hatch, not sure where she wanted him to go.

Wiess pointed Martynaster at the hatch above her and shut it tight with another, similar glyph. They were eclipsed in complete darkness. Wiess only realized her mistake after a few moments of them still, in the dark. “Let me get the- oof!” Wiess was crossing the room to find the candle and matches, but ran straight into the General. Ironwood grabbed her by the shoulders and quickly peeled her away. He was able to find a seat on the bench, using only his flailing arms to find the way.

Wiess eventually found a candle and lit it. It was surprisingly illuminating, since the room was so pitch black. 

“Alright,” Wiess said, “What is it you needed to talk about?” She held the candle out to one side and cocked her hip out.

Ironwood looked lost for a moment, distracted by all the weird steps she required just for this conversation. “Oh,” he perked up and reached a hand into his coat. He retrieved a stack of letters- a rather thick stack of letters- tied together in a complicated tie of a red ribbon. He offered them to Wiess.

Wiess crooked Martenaster in her elbow, under the same arm that held her candle, and snatched the pile from his gloved hand. She crooked her head sideways. She didn't have to take the ribbon off. She knew what the stack was. On the back of the top letter- and likely on the back of every letter- was Wiess’ name written in Winters’ handwriting. 

Wiess smiled softly at the stack. “This is…-” her shoulders relaxed and she held the stack close to her chest.

“She’s been writing those every day, but she didn’t want them addressed to the mansion,” he said. He folded his hands in his lap. “I thought this would be… easier.”

“...Thank you,” Wiess said sweetly. She genuinely appreciated that he was willing to do that for them. “This means a lot.”

Ironwood looked away. He was too bashful for this intimate of human interaction, and he couldn’t help shying away. 

Wiess smiled even wider. Ironwood sure was shy for such a _big bad general_. She found it rather endearing. Wiess turned and stashed the letters on the shelf behind her, and then set the candle down on the bench next to Ironwood. She retrieved her Martynaster from her arm and aimed it at the ceiling.

_Knock knock._

There was a knock at her bedroom door. Wiess waited a moment, to be sure that no familiar footsteps were barging in. When the door wasn’t shook in response to it being locked, she knew it could only be Klien.

Weiss unlocked the glyph. She stepped on the bench, nearly entangled with where Ironwood was sitting beneath the hatch in order to pop her head out of it. Ironwood leaned back and away from her, but her legs remained awkwardly in his space. Weiss waved Martynaster below deck, nearly smacking Ironwood in the face, to unlock the door from a distance.

Klien barrelled into the door and then motioned for Wiess to get back in the hatch. Wiess popped back down on her knees and closed the hatch as she did. Above her, she could tell by how dark the cracks became that Klien threw the rug over the hatch door.

Ironwood was completely frozen. Hekept trying to look up and away, but Weiss was like a neighborly sardine. This was the second worse position he’d ever been trapped in before.

Wiess was only paying attention to the footsteps corroborating above. Muffled voices. Her father was walking around up there, berating Klien for not knowing where she was. Whitley had to be behind him in the doorway- there was no way that he wasn’t there. For whatever reason, they were looking for her. Wiess’ breath tried to stay steady, but something about hiding there was giving her an adrenaline rush. They shuffled around for a few minutes.

The footsteps left, and slammed the door as they did, but Klien _also_ left _with them_ , and didn’t bother to remove the heavy rug from its resting place. Wiess sighed. She’d definitely need Ironwood to help her open it, but she considered coasting it out and waiting until everyone was calm to appear again. She looked at Ironwood, who she was basically now straddling in the candlelight. He looked absolutely mortified. He was trying his best to avert his eyes from her.

Wiess’ mouth curled into an apologetic smile. He wasn’t barking at her for being in his space, even if he was visibly uncomfortable with it. He was so… passive. She figured it would be best not to keep torturing him and move away instead.

“My apologee-!” Wiess wobbled backwards to try and get off of the bench, but she lost her balance and flailed backwards. Ironwood caught her at the small of her back and pulled her back to it. Even though that was the place he _didn’t_ want her to be, he would rather her _not_ bust her skull open- especially when a glyph stood between him and exiting the bunker.

Wiess gasped and clung fast to his shoulders, which only made everything worse. Her body pressed completely into his and she nearly hid her face in his shoulder. Wiess’ legs were still spread on him, and it was here that she realized just how rude she had been. With her body so close to his while she listened in, it was only natural that his body would respond. Whether or not he wanted to, he’d become hard, and she was in the position to feel it through his pants. 

Wiess’ eyes were wide. She had already tried to steady her breath from her previous adrenaline, but this was a whole new level of dirty dopamine. 

Ironwood was scared to move her again. His hands released from her back and slowly moved to her shoulders to attempt and peel her away again. He hoped it would be the last time he would have to do that.

She stood up on her knees on the bench again and her hands looped around his neck so delicately that he wasn’t sure if he were imagining it. 

“I apologize,” she said softly. Softer than any Schnee had been heard to speak before. “You’re very sweet.”

Ironwood did not say anything, but rather tried to look at her while also straining away from her. She’d positioned herself so that the little triangle opening in her dress was right in front of his face- her A-cup breasts more visible than any other angle. He tried to look her in the eye, but she had the upper ground, and her tits in his face. He had no idea what this was supposed to do with his physical blunders or the search for her above- was she just casually talking about the letters? As if nothing else _happened_? He was thankful but he was confused as well.

Ironwood gulped. He needed to get out of there before things got weirder, or he was likely to do something he regretted.

“Can you remove the Glyph on the door?” He asked. 

Wiess pouted- _pouted._ “Yeah,” she said, annoyed. Her previous sugary voice was gone. She didn’t bother to move and instead waved the Martynaster in preparation still atop him. 

“Do you _want_ to remove the Glyph?” He asked. He couldn’t read much but he could tell that she was hesitating at the very least.

Wiess paused. _Uh oh._ She put down her Rapier. She looked sad. He was not prepared to deal with whatever feelings she was about to expel, that he was sure of.

“No… I don’t want to,” she said plainly. “I don’t want to,” she repeated. She leaned down and pressed herself back into his as tightly as she was before and wedged her face beneath his Jaw. “I’m sorry, if you would just…”

Her hot breath on his neck was torture. Aside from her pressing herself back against his boner casually and innocently. She was an adult. There was _no way_ that she didn’t know what was going on there. 

Ironwood’s heartbeat was fast, too fast. He slowly wrapped his arms back around her and held her. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention, especially from someone who was nearly a stranger. 

Wiess grinded into him gently, and that was accompanied with a sweet and short sound from the back of her throat. The breath on his neck somehow felt even hotter. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, his voice was, just as hers was, a tone that she wouldn’t have expected from him. It was soft, deep, and smooth. 

“So it’s okay?” She asked, daintily. Her voice was small and her eyes were large. He finally understood what doe-eyed really meant. This was a creature _pleading_ , but for what he had no idea. 

He nodded slowly. She could do anything. He would _let her_ do anything. 

And she knew that.

Her lips curled into a smile. She looked devious suddenly. It was like she had the keys to the plane and she _knew_ that she was going to crash it on purpose. This was no doe- this was a tricky fox. He told himself that he should have known better.

Weiss kissed his neck at the base and slowly dragged upwards to his ear. She caught his jaw between her teeth and kissed it, too. He was already _pathetically_ turned on.

She hummed a very peculiar “hmm,” as she found his lips and kissed him there. She grinded against him again. He reciprocated her kisses, at first with his initial hesitation, and then stronger.

It felt like she was a treat that he wasn’t supposed to have, but he didn’t want to spit her out. She was something he wanted to savor. Something he hoped wouldn't simply dissolve in his grasp.

The fingers on his human hand twitched- he wondered if she knew about the robotic side. When her hands slid down into his collar, he tensed up. She opened his jacket and kissed downwards from his chin to his chest, even on the parts made of metal. 

His breathing was heavy, hollow, and she could hear the soft whirring of his mechanical lung. She pressed her ear against it, curious how it would change. Her fingers ran down the other side past his exposed nipple and crossed downwards towards his abdomen. Her hand rested in the crook of his hip as she rubbed her face messily against his chest. She grinded again with another light sound.

Ironwood kissed her on the forehead. He wasn’t sure what she was planning next, but he was somewhere so far in the state of shock that he almost wanted to egg her on. 

Wiess hopped up from the bench suddenly. He looked around, not sure what to do with his hands suddenly. Wiess’ hands traveled upwards from her thighs, pulling her blue A-line with it. Beneath, she grabbed the edges of her petticoat and bloomers and slid them down her bare legs and onto the floor. She kicked them away and climbed back onto the bench. 

Her arms curved behind her and loosened her dress at the top. She slid the zipper halfway down, and her breasts started to peak out from underneath. Ironwood just watched at first, but when her bra started to show itself his instinct was to touch her there. He yanked down her dress from the top. Wiess was already fiddling with the strapless Bra behind her back. It fell forward and into his lap. His hands curved around the shapely mounds. Her nipples were already erect, part bitter to the cold and part arousal. 

Ironwood removed his gloves with his mouth and placed them on her breasts. He caressed them gently before his thumbs pressed against the nipples. She leaned in to kiss him again, unable to resist it much more. She grinded again and again. 

She was already sopping wet. Her juices flowed through her underwear and threatened to stick to anything beneath. His pants were going to smell like _Wiess._ She kept grinding, finding pleasure in rubbing her clitoris against his hardened dick, even with the layers between them. 

“Should I call you _General_?” She asked. Her hand crawled up the back of his neck and started to play with the hairs at the base of it. She wasn’t about to let him answer, either, as she inserted her tongue sharply into his mouth. He moaned involuntarily.

She had held the reigns, but he also wasn’t going to just _sit by_ while she had all the fun. His robotic hand slid down her side and to the front of her wetted pants. She pressed into his hand, but Ironwood had other plans. In one swift move, he maneuvered around her underwear and inserted two fingers deep into her. 

Wiess gasped, both excited and offended. Ironwood started to move his fingers inside of her before she could even process the insertion. 

“You can call me James,” he said. He leaned in to kiss her back. His movements slowed inside her, so that she’d be able to get used to the pattern. Wiess whimpered, as if she had suddenly been defeated. 

James stopped and withdrew his hands from her. He gave her one more quick peck before bringing his hand to his mouth and tasting her. Wiess’ face turned red as he ran his tongue across his fingers. 

James slouched a bit forward as he undid his belt and shimmied his pants and briefs down. His dick throbbing from being trapped so long just below her. He held it with one hand and guided it to her opening. 

She nervously put her hands on his shoulders. She almost felt like chickening out once she saw it. It was the last moment she could consider taking a step back and actually looking at the situation she was in. Before she could think it through, he was already inching his way inside her. Wiess nearly shrieked. The sensation wasn’t the type that she was expecting- and it shoving deeper and deeper into her effortlessly made her shiver.

James pulled her hips down on top of him and thrusted upwards into her. She was very vocal about how sharp and surprising it felt. A second thrust- a third. It wasn’t so bad once she felt balanced on him. She reached for another kiss and sloppily invaded his mouth. 

He was starting slow, no matter how tortuous it felt to do so. He was going to _savor this_ dammit. He moaned again. Even though he was already kissing her, he was tempted to instead lean his head into her shoulders.

She was loud, and worryingly so. With every thrust it was an “Ah-“ of some sort coming out of her mouth. A soft and intimate sound. 

James wondered if there was any chance that they could be caught in the bunker. Even if the walls were lined- there were cracks around the trap door. He tried his best to keep his voice down, but every motion inside of her was at odds with him about that. He couldn’t help the breathy and weak noises he made.

Once Weiss had a bit more of adjusting herself to the sensation, she started to move in rhythm with him, grinding harder forward into him. Her motion guided her further forward, and when she pressed her face into his chest again his instinct was to wrap his arms around her. 

Her arms reached above and behind his neck again, and gently tugged at the hair on his neck again. Her fingers curled in and grabbed what hair was there as she took control again. James was powerless to do anything against her.

“ _James_ ,” she said lightly- and then again, “James!” She repeated. Her insides were locking up already, tightening more and more as she grinded on top of him. “James,” she continued to moan. Her hips wound around. She was trying to go as fast as she could. Her face was already long flushed and her body sticky with sweat.

She pressed forward. James closed his eyes- sure that if he saw her doe face again that he would lose it. “Miss- Wiess, I’m nearly at my limit,” he said breathlessly.

She merely hummed sweetly in response. “Mmm- hmmm,” and continued to fuck him as hard as she could. 

“Wiess- I can’t just- you might want to get off, I-“

“I don’t care,” she said, whining. She changed her rhythm for a moment so that she could talk to him and slow him down. “Give me everything you have,” she said. It was a bit dramatic, flair and all, with the dark twinkle that shone from the back of her eyes. 

James leaned in and kissed her again, but it was just a peck this time. Wiess tried to follow it, but he leaned away too quickly. He tilted his head at her, and she paused. 

“Everything okay?” She asked, suddenly concerned.

“Yeah,” he said with a small smile and a slow blink. He touched her round face with his human hand, and gently slid his thumb across her cheek. “Do what _you_ want.”

Wiess threw her arms around his neck again and started to grind again. She pressed forward as she did before and produced a high pitched voice as she did so. “James!” She cried again. Her insides did as they had before, and started to constrict around him.

The feeling felt like it started at the base of her spine and crawled up towards her brain. At the same time, the electricity below felt like a warm breath in a cold blizzard. She whimpered another “James,” and threw herself back and forth as hard as she could once more.

He felt himself also coming close again, and her pathetic noises while topping definitely weren’t helping him hold out. “Yes, Wiess?” He said through breaths.

“I want it!” She said happily. Her face nestled into his neck and she repeated it again and again. Back and forth. Faster. With less and less breath. Higher pitched. She slammed herself into him over and over again, each time feeling more than the last. It felt like every part of her insides were being touched, and that feeling crawled up her spine faster. 

He put his hands on her hips and followed her rhythm. “Wiess,” he moaned, “I’m going to come.” He said- with more emotion than she had ever heard him use before. He kept going, but he also felt the tell-tale signs of a rising orgasm. 

Wiess hummed again, “mhmmmm-Mmh! James! James!” Her body lurched and her movement became erratic and twitchy. Her lower half was haunted by spasms of pleasure, and even the inside of her twitched. 

James grabbed her by the hips and held her as still as he could as he came deep inside of her. He leaned his face down into the crook of her neck instead and breathed erratically into her shoulder. His fingers gripped her thighs.

It felt like there were a few moments in eternity, where the effects of the orgasm was more than enough to erase the world around them.

Wiess breathed heavy and curled her fists up against his chest. James took a breath and watched as his semen started to drip all over him from inside of Wiess. 

“Ohhh,” he moaned. Reality started to sink back in. “That’s… going to be a mess,” he said. His tone went back to his usual frigid.

Wiess wiggled on top of him, with him still inserted. “Mmmm,” she said lightly.

“You are a very… _woman…_ ” he muttered, aware of how ridiculous it sounded when it came out of his mouth. He nodded.

“I’m aware,” she spoke slyly. Her eyes peeked up from his chest. 

“This… we’ll have to get out of this bunker eventually…” he said, looking away. Wiess thought it curious that even after all that, that he was still being so _shy._

“Would I be able to see you again?” she asked sweetly as she removed herself from him. The mess was all on his hands, now.

He cleared his throat. “Hm?” he looked back at her again. He looked like a deer in headlights.

“Once we exit the bunker. You’ll swing by again sometime won’t you?” She leaned her face into her raised shoulder. 

“If… if you would like,” his shoulders hiked up a little. He used his gloves to try and clean up the mess. To little effect, but it was enough to possibly sneak out of the manor without wet pants. He shoved the dirtied gloves in an inner pocket and got dressed. He figured he’d just have everything cleaned later. He just hoped that he _could_ make it out of the manor.

Wiess unlocked the door above and pushed on the door. James took the initiative to help her open the hatch. He stiff-armed it with his robotic hand and the heavy rug wrinkled above them. They were able to flip the door open together. 

Wiess peeked her head out of the hatch and then scrambled into her room to lock her door. She needed a moment to be fully dressed beforeJames could make his escape proper. She slipped her petticoat back on for a moment- just incase.

“Should be clear…” she whispered. James climbed out of the hatch and followed her tiptoes to the door. She looked out into the hallways. It was empty.

“Hurry, before someone walks by!” She said. She flung the door open with a _woosh_.

James was quick to walk out the door past her, but his arm lingered behind and caught her gently by the shoulder. “I will see you again.” He said. He wasn’t sure the proper way to express the sentiments that he wanted to, but she understood.

“I’ll be waiting,” she said with a smile. When he withdrew his hand, the door snapped shut before him. He held his hand to his chest and took a deep breath. He wondered just what he had gotten himself into.

Wiess hopped back into the trap door and nabbed the stack of letters from the shelf. She wanted to at least glance at them as she got dressed. She climbed back up and tossed her petticoat across the room towards her laundry. 

She tugged on the twiney red ribbon until it came loose at one end. The stack shuffled itself into a little staircase on envelopes, and she was sure to pick the one that was first, by date, from the pile. She used her pinky and nail to open the seal and slid out the first letter. It was full of pleasantries, but…

“Wiess, I set this letter at the front so that you would read it first,” it said. That was curious. Wiess skimmed the letter all the way down. Winter just explained over again that she didn’t want the letters to be addressed to the manor. Wiess smiled, until she got to the bottom half of the letter.

“Please treat General Ironwood kindly, and don’t take advantage of his kindness. I know you. ” it read.

Wiess snickered, “ha, _whoops_ ~”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys like it! (;
> 
> I’m already feeling inspired and I’m thinking of doing more in the future!
> 
> I was literally going to have winters lwtter say “pls dont f*ck the general” bc i thought it’s be a funny punchline but ehhh i felt like it didnt fit.


End file.
